Remedy
by mur xo
Summary: Clare and Eli are engaged, but things take a slight turn for the worse. Can Eli and Clare salvage their relationship before it's too late or will Eli's mental illness and Clare's growing depression make their future together impossible?


**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything. I don't own the the characters, the plot, or Degrassi. If I had a mind as creative as that then I wouldn't be wasting my time writing fanfiction. :)

**Author's Notes**: So, a couple nights ago I got this crazy idea for a fanfiction, an idea so out of the realm of my comfort zone that I was a bit afraid to create it. I started writing and this is part of what I've come up with so far. I'm pretty sure I'm going to continue it, since I already have a great deal of it written, but there is a possibility that it'll just turn into a one-shot. Your feedback means the world to me and I would love to hear your opinions on this. I feel like Eli's mental illness gets glossed over in many fanfics (I'm unfortunately guilty of this myself) and I had the desperate urge to create this. There will still be a good deal of EClare fluff, just a bit more angst than I normally write.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

**POISON**

****_"And the poison that took my soul, it keeps me from feeling anything... And I can't see so good..."_

Clare knew he was off his medication again, she just _knew_.

Her gut recognized all of the agonizing signs that she had been working so hard on ignoring. It was the way his green orbs were dull and mossy, no longer sparkling and energetic. It was the way his embraces were cooler and sporadic, no longer loving and kind. It was the way his smirk lifted wickedly off his lips, no longer sarcastic and charming. It was the way his professional journalistic works were darkened and nonsensical, no longer witty and informative. It was the way his everyday actions were manipulative and spontaneous, no longer careful and planned. And it was the way his words were empty and bitter, no longer sincere and warm.

Clare knew Eli Goldsworthy was sick.

Clare knew Eli Goldsworthy was volatile.

Clare knew Eli Goldsworthy was a monster.

But Clare knew Eli Goldsworthy was her fiancé, her future husband and the love of her life.

With every negative incident that passed between the couple, Clare tried to replace it with a past memory, one where Eli had been his old, brilliant self.

Every day it became increasingly harder to tune the new, sadistic Eli out to favor the old, affectionate Eli. Every day became more of a struggle for survival under such cruel constraints which Clare had inflicted upon herself. Clare had chosen this way of life, to marry a man who had a mental illness, because she saw so much more in him than a doctor's diagnosis. He was _her_ Eli. He was intelligent, gentle, kind-hearted, annoyingly sarcastic and utterly perfect. He was _her_ Eli when he was taking his medication regularly, when the bitter pills made their way into his blood stream.

But _her_ Eli was long gone and the only thing left of him was a hard shell, a harsh reminder of what he used to be, of what she used to have and of what they once were together.

* * *

February fourteenth had been a day Clare Edwards had always looked forward to. It meant flowers, candy, presents and lots of love. Ever since Eli had gotten back together with her, six years ago, Clare had whole-heartedly celebrated the romantic holiday. Eli was always great about surprising her, taking her out, keeping romance alive in the subtlest possible ways which made Clare's heart melt. He was the one who made the under-appreciated holiday special for her.

That's why it came as such a shock when Eli hadn't even bothered to return her phone calls. It was six-thirty in the evening, on February 14th and Clare Edwards hadn't so much as heard a 'hello' from her future husband. He was working in the office today, which Clare had found odd to begin with, since he always tried to request Valentine's Day off. After all, the day marked the one-year anniversary of their engagement as well, which Clare naively thought would count for something.

Her mind tried to distract her from reaching for the phone and dialing the familiar number, but her nimble fingers worked hurriedly over her cell phone's keypad. She felt herself holding her breath as the phone rang three times, before an agitated voice picked up on the other end.

"What is it? What do you want?"

"Eli… It's… It's Valentine's Day. I just thought you might want to…"

"No, Clare, I _can't_. I'm busy."

"Oh… Well… What time do you think you'll be home?" Clare tried her best not to sound too irritated, for fear that her annoyance would set Eli off even further.

"I don't know. Don't wait up. I'll see you tomorrow."

_Tomorrow_.

Eli was officially ditching Valentine's Day. Tears sprung to Clare's eyes and she could feel a lump of emotion forming in her throat.

"Okay then. Have a good night," Clare's unsteady voice spoke through the receiver just before the other end went dead. He hadn't even said goodbye. _Or I love you_. Not that Clare was expecting that. Eli hadn't said those three words in so long, Clare had practically given up all hope.

Clare pulled her knees up towards her chest, trying to comfort herself for her boyfriend's callous behavior. She rocked herself back and forth trying to remember a time when it wasn't like this, when life was beautiful and she felt inspired every day by her strong relationship with Eli.

"_You better not be peeking, Clare," Eli's husky voice whispered next to her ear, gently pulling the blindfold tighter around her eyes._

"_I'm not, I'm not!"_

"_Good."_

_Clare could see the smirk that Eli was donning on his face without having to witness it herself. The thought alone caused the own corners of her mouth to stretch, a smile beaming on her face._

"_Sit down," Eli instructed, guiding Clare onto the wooden chair, before unwrapping her blindfold._

"_I love you. You're beautiful," he whispered, kissing her passionately on the neck before dropping down onto one knee, a small box in his hand._

_Clare knew what was coming and tears of joy came flooding down her cheeks, eliciting a chuckle from the raven haired man beside her._

"_I haven't even said anything yet, Blue Eyes," his voice was tender, lovingly teasing, and Clare brushed her tears away, wanting to imprint this memory in her mind forever._

"_The answer is yes, Eli. Yes, yes, yes."_

"_But… I didn't even get to ask you!" _

_Clare wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him up, wrapping every one of her limbs so tightly around him, Eli found it hard to breathe._

"_You never had to," she whispered, crushing her lips onto his with such force that Eli was a bit taken aback. He took a moment before responding with just as much ferocity, whispering "I love you" in between each breath. _

"_Clare Goldsworthy, I love the sound of that," he smirked, before lifting her up and backing her against the wall, his lips bruising hers once more._

"_As do I, Mr. Goldsworthy," Clare responded with a small laugh, before showing her future husband just how gracious she was to be taking his last name._

It had only been a year ago, but Clare felt that a lifetime had passed. Eli was someone else now. He was completely different.

* * *

"Mom?"

"Clare… I'm so sorry."

"Mom! What is it?"

"Oh, Clare…" Helen's voice broke off with a round of sobs and heard rustling before a male's voice came on the phone; Glen's.

"Clare, sweetie…I'm so sorry…"

"So sorry for what? What happened?" Clare's pulse quickened, the panic rising like bile in her throat.

"Your father was in a car accident this morning and he was pronounced dead at the scene. I'm so sorry, honey. If there's…"

Clare cut him off, her scream startling him. "No!"

"Your mother and I will be over later today after we make… arrangements."

Clare felt her mouth go completely dry, felt her hands begin to shake with an uncontrollable tremor. Her father could not be dead. She had seen him just a couple of days ago when they had lunch together at The Dot. There was no way Randall Edwards wasn't alive and well. Wordlessly, Clare hung up the phone, grabbed her keys, and stormed out the door. The only way she would believe her father was deceased was if she saw it for herself.

* * *

"Clare!"

The front door slammed open, hinges creaking under the sudden stress invoked upon the springs, the sound of his frantic voice bouncing off of the hallways.

He paused, straining his ears, allowing the hollowness of their apartment to consume him. The driveway was empty. Clare's car was gone. His mind raced, desperate thoughts jumbling inside of his head, stumbling together. _Was she gone? Was she gone for good? Did she finally have enough of this?_

"Clare," his voice growled once more, hesitant anger leaking through the empty pronoun. No love or warmth was behind the singular syllable, just malice.

There was no reply, which infuriated Eli. He searched briefly for a note, a quick sketching that would have explained Clare's absence. Nothing was left behind for him. His hands, shaking with a rush of adrenaline, reached for a vase, the very one Clare's father and step-mother had bought them last Christmas, and smashed it against the wall. Slowly, a miniscule of fury evaporated. Next, his hands moved to reach a photo frame, a picture of himself and Clare taken last New Year's Eve at a restaurant. Again he shoved the glass towards the floor, smattering it all over the wooden panels. The action pleased him, as his eyes glittered with something akin to happiness at the destruction. If Clare was going to leave him, Eli wanted to make sure she had absolutely nothing to come back to. Eli continued the demolition until nearly all of the furniture and fixtures in the living room were beyond the point of reparation.

All that was left behind was a broken home.

* * *

Clare sat in her car, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She was parked in front of a home, her father's new home, alone. She had gone to the hospital, allowed herself to be directed to the morgue, and identified the body as her father's. It was true. It was all true and Clare still couldn't believe it. Her father, her rock, her supporter, was ripped away in the blink of an eye. She wanted to cry, to come completely undone, but she couldn't. All Clare felt was a complete numbness enveloping her body, soaking her in, protecting her from the hurt she so desperately wanted to cling to.

The phone on the passenger seat next to her began to buzz, the tenth incoming call Clare failed to answer. The more she ignored it, the more it went off, stirring up resentment to whoever the caller may be. Sick and tired of the disturbance, Clare reached for her phone and picked it up.

"_What_?" She seethed, static exasperation dripping off the word.

"Clare, I just wanted to make sure you were okay… I mean, do you want me to come over or anything?"

"No, Jake. I want you to stop calling me and leave me alone," she snapped, ending the phone call, mirroring Eli's previous atrocious behavior from earlier that very day.

The phone rang again and Clare picked up, this time blinded by the fury the phone call caused. Who dared keep interrupting her when she was so obviously trying to grieve, even if she was failing miserably?

"I said _leave me alone_!" She spat, ready to hang up again.

"Clare?" The voice was oddly familiar, comforting and calm.

"Eli?"

"Where are you? Where've you been? You're _mother_ just came by to look for you. She was... she was crying."

It was then that tears began to threaten Clare, when the reality of the situation finally fell like a ton of bricks on top of her. Her mouth gasped for air, her body heaving dry sobs into the phone. She couldn't breathe.

"Clare! Talk to me. You're worrying me."

It was the old Eli coming out to play. Hours earlier Clare would have killed to hear this kind of emotion in Eli's voice, but now, she'd do anything to have him not care. She wanted to be completely alone, completely isolated from the world. Her mind flickered briefly to Eli and his episodes, and she began to understand him a bit more. Maybe this was how Eli felt when he was suffering from his bipolar disorder: out of control, suffocating, overwhelmed and numbed.

"My dad…"

"What about him? C'mon, Clare, spit it out."

"He… he's gone."

"Gone where?"

"He's _dead_, Eli." Clare shrieked venomously into the phone, sobs gripping her small frame.

"Oh my God. Where are you?"

"His… his home… his old home… whatever it is."

"Don't move. I'll be right there."

"Okay," she whispered softly, causing Eli to strain to hear the words.

"Clare? I… I love you."

She closed her eyes, repeating the words in her head, but didn't say them back out loud.

"Just hurry," she replied, hanging up the phone and dropping it onto the car's floor.

Clare needed Eli to be the strong one this time, like she had been for so long. She didn't know if he could rise to the occasion or if she really wanted him to succeed at taking care of her. She wanted to stay this numb for as long as she could because the longer she felt numb, the easier she could cope. The death of her father didn't seem to harm her as much and her faltering relationship with Eli seemed like such a petty problem compared to the larger scope of things.

All Clare wanted to do was allow this numbness to suffocate her, until all she could see was black and there was just nothing else left.

* * *

Reviews from wonderful _readers like you_ would be much appreciated!

Tell me if you hate it or if you like it.

Reviews = better than opening presents on Christmas. :D

If I get enough feedback on this, I'd like to update ASAP, so please, _please_ tell me how you feel towards this. You readers are awesome!

xo Mur


End file.
